Twice a week the winter thorough Here stood I to keep the goal: Football then was fighting sorrow For the young man's soul. Now in Maytime to the wicket Out I march with bat and pad: See the son of grief at cricket Trying to be glad. Try I will no harm in trying: Wonder 'tis how little mirth Keeps the bones of man from lying On the bed of earth. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE VANISHING RED by ROBERT FROST EXODUS FOR OREGON by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER THE IDEA by AGNES MARY F. ROBINSON TO A YOUNG MAN ON THE PLATFORM OF A SUBWAY EXPRESS by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS LILIES: 13. 'LET US NEVER COMFORT EACH OTHER INTO SLEEP' by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) LILIES: 9. BENEATH LOFTIER STARS by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) SONNETS FOR NEW YORK CITY: 1. NEW YORK AT SUNRISE by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH BEREAVEMENT by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING ON THE TRUE MEANING OF THE SCRIPTURE TERMS 'LIFE AND DEATH,' by JOHN BYROM |